Leaving a career that looked right from the outside, starting over at 26, and learning that 4 years of design school weren't wasted after all.

Jan 2024. It was a cold afternoon; I sat across from my dad in the living room. The atmosphere was tense.

My dad leaned forward and said, “Beta, design isn’t for you. Kitni baar jobs ke liye apply karogi and get rejections? I know the competition is high, but you’re being paid peanuts. I strongly suggest you switch your career to digital marketing. Scope bahut hai. Online courses dekho, and start over.”

Ouch. That statement hit me like a truck. Starting over seemed overwhelming for a 26-year-old. I spent 4 years in design school and proved myself multiple times that I was a good designer. But no matter how hard I tried, there was a better designer than me.

It felt as if my design degree had gone to waste. Lakhs of rupees were spent on my education, that too from a reputed design school. But what choice did I have? Was I genuinely happy with my career? Was I getting paid enough? The answer: I was not. I was miserable.

I gave nearly 9 years of my life to being a designer. It took me 26 years to swallow the bitter truth: Designing wasn’t my thing, even though I had that creative flair.

When the Safe Path Stops Feeling Safe

Design as a career looks glamorous from the outside. Designing posters for a brand, experimenting with transitions and typography - All seems fun, when it doesn’t. Not many people know the dark reality behind a design career.

A design degree from a reputed college isn’t cheap. Sure, the classes are fun. You learn the fundamentals of design, the projects push you to think outside the box, and design juries teach you to defend your designs better.

And before you know it, 4 years of your life fly by. Graduating is just a stepping stone. If you’re lucky, you will be placed in a big brand. But for some people like me, finding a job became tougher. We were made to work long hours, sometimes even during lunch breaks, because the client wanted a “small change” done urgently. And the salary? Peanuts. Then the pandemic hit, and we were forced to work from home.

This cycle continued. My colleagues called me after office hours to get the creatives done, and the clients rejected the 4th version at 9 p.m. I dreaded opening my laptop. My health started to deteriorate, and my sleep cycle was messed up. I literally had dark circles under my eyes. Taking a lunch break seemed like a luxury, and taking leave was impossible.

Changing jobs was a hurdle. I’d get ghosted, I wouldn’t clear the assignment rounds, or the salary was the same. Knowing that my design career was coming to an end was a bitter pill for me to swallow. It took me 4.5 years in corporate to tell me that design wasn’t for me. 

What Starting Over Actually Teaches You

Starting over teaches you about courage. About facing your self-doubt, especially those “What will people think? A 26-year-old starting as an intern?”

Fighting your own battles is hard. Who would I turn to? No one in my family has changed their career midway. I had no choice but to turn back now; I had to move forward and take charge of my new career.

So that’s what I did. I decided to pursue the online digital marketing course from IIM Indore, 48 hours after I had that discussion with my father. It took me weeks to pull myself out of rock bottom and have the courage to restart. Although it did seem embarrassing to be one of the oldest content writing interns, I had to start somewhere.

Nothing Goes to Waste

In 2025, when I was working as a content writing intern, I was a nervous wreck. Everyone around me was fresh out of college, and here I was, 26, learning how to write meta descriptions like it was my first day of school all over again.

Then my manager left a comment on my second piece: "This flows well. You clearly understand structure." 4 words. That's all it took. I read that comment 3 times before I let myself believe it. It was the first time in months someone had told me I was good at something — not "good, but," not "good, considering." Just good. I went home that night and, for the first time since the conversation with my dad, I didn't dread opening my laptop.

I remember editing a piece where the writer had crammed 5 ideas into 1 paragraph. My designer brain kicked in before my writer brain did; I saw white space, not sentences. I broke it into three short paragraphs, added a subhead, and gave the reader room to breathe.

That's when it clicked: Writing has hierarchy, the same way a poster does. What goes bold, what goes first, what the eye lands on before it lands on anything else. Nobody taught me that in a content writing course. Design school did.

Using some of the design principles in writing helped me to improve my skills. With time, I realised that I enjoyed writing. At work, I was encouraged to try different hooks, research deeper, and find my voice in narratives. Every piece of feedback I got from my managers helped me become a better writer. I needed this kind of support and growth.

I know my life would have been very different if I had pursued an English or a marketing degree. But I had to go through this phase to step out of my comfort zone. Even if it didn’t go as planned.

Even my reading habit came in handy. I started paying attention to how my favourite authors could hook my attention from the first page. How my favourite podcasters narrated the story. I started paying attention to English literature more.

Reflection

Starting over doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Life throws these challenges so you can find your path; it pushes you to find your source of joy. If you’re like me, please remember this: Changing careers isn’t a bad thing and not everything you learnt in college ever goes to waste.

In my case, my design background gives me an edge. I can speak the designers’ language. I understand design principles; more importantly, I’ve been on the other side of the table. I know how it feels when your design gets rejected, even when you put your soul into it. Writing copy and helping designers visualise has quietly become my strength.

If you’re at that crossroads, it’s okay. Play with your strengths, and you might find something you’re good at. 9 years that felt wasted turned out to be exactly the foundation I needed. Nothing, it turns out, ever truly goes to waste.

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